It hasn't gone away

You never wanted me to be at your gravestone but here I am.

This is the only image I have of the figure; before I thought of them, perceiving a person that exists in the face of a play date over a decade ago. No, I do not want to leave and get ice cream, I always mess the memory up when I try.

I don’t have any of the images where you’re holding your head on the floor with her thoughts running through your mind because I wasn’t sure if it was really your desire for me to capture the moment, but to be honest I loved you anyway. Even though I never saved any pictures of you, and never had an explanation as to why I can’t read people and why everyone is so much better than me -- I’m here, I’m the last thing you want to see and it’s not your fault.

I think I’m taking a quiz in the blistering heat of the sun so I can read people better, and the only ones in the room taking it with me are hundreds of people from different walks of life; they all have your face. They were all in the room taking the quiz and I wasn’t in the room because I was crying. I was crying because I greeted you by saying goodbye and I’m sorry but I’m still not over that. I think back to our plans and our hopes and dreams and realize they were nothing more than hair caught in the drain, clogging out everything else that needed to go away. This needed to go away.

It hasn’t gone away.

Author's Note

I wrote this using predictive text on my phone and then tweaked it.